SSDDDW
by SageK
Summary: Following up the events of 4x01 "Founder's Day"


She held back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes until she was safely behind the locked door of her house. Leaning back against the cool, heavy wood, she drew in a ragged breath, fingers clawing at the stifling tie and stiff collar of her authentic, 1947 uniform. Legs unable to support her any longer, Jo Lupo sank to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest as she let out a choked, ragged sound of grief.

Just this morning, she had been stunned into silence by Zane Donovan's unexpected proposal, so stunned she had been unable to respond, but the time-lost insanity of the day had helped her see what was important. What was true.

She loved him.

He loved her.

It was that simple.

Except things were never truly simple in Eureka and Zane was different now. Somehow, they had changed things in the past and she'd come back to a world where they'd never dated, never fallen in love…hell, it looked like he'd never been sprung from jail after his arrival in town.

In the eyes of everyone, save those few who'd taken the jaunt to the 40's with her, they had never been anything to each other.

Angrily, she swiped the tears from her cheeks, stumbling to her feet and making her way to the bedroom, taking note of the changes to the décor…or lack there of. The place was more Spartan than she recalled.

Placing a hand on a dresser drawer, she spared a moment to hope the her in this timeline hadn't had a drastically different organizational system than her own. Figuring that out would be a pain.

She tugged open the drawer, peering in at the contents and she felt her eyes well up again. It was here that she kept her few, sentimental keepsakes, small mementos that had touched her ad that she hadn't wanted displayed to prying eyes.

A few family photos. One of her mother, younger than Jo herself was now, framed in silver…Some of Mom's jewelry…A few seashells…A carved wooden gnome that Callister had randomly presented to her one day…And the ballet slippers Jack had given her after she'd fessed up to aspiring to be a ballerina when she was a little girl.

None of the odd little things Zane had made a habit of giving her. They'd just been knick-knacks, really, but they had meant something to her.

Now the were gone, or rather, had never existed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she touched her mother's picture, gently tracing her features before brushing her fingers over the smooth satin of the ballet slippers.

Suddenly seized with a need not to be alone, she fumbled for her cell phone, closing a fist around the sleek, compact device before she remembered the circuits had been fried by time travel. Unlike many people, she'd never disconnected her land line and she grabbed up the receiver, punching numbers rapidly. Shaky fingers misdialed the first time, but the second time there was an answer.

"Carter."

She didn't waste any time, simply asking, "Can you come over?"

He must have heard something in her voice, because he asked no questions. "I'm on my way."

As soon as he hung up, she nearly choked on conflicting feelings. On one hand, she was glad he was coming, knew he wouldn't think less of her for showing a bit of emotion, a bit of vulnerability. On the other hand, he was (technically) her boss, not exactly the best person to fall apart in front of.

In the end it didn't really matter, cause she'd already called him and less than ten minutes later she heard the door open, heard him say, "Jo?"

Haltingly, she rose, stumbling out into the small living room as Jack entered from the kitchen. His wide blue eyes, with a very familiar dazed, confused expression, darted over her, checking for visible injuries and finding nothing new. She stared at him, silent and shaken until he asked, "What changed?"

She took a breath, gathering her resolve. "I found Zane…at our office, in the cell…He never…he said…."

The words did not want to come out and she hated sounding so hesitant and indecisive. Clearly Jack didn't know quite what to make of this either, as he took a hesitant step forward and offered, "Uh, want me to kick his ass?"

Obviously, he was trying to lighten her spirits, as she could clearly handle any and all ass kicking's on her own, but the offer drew a trembling smile from her. "He's still in jail. We were never together," she said, biting at her lips. "I love him and I didn't say yes when he loved me too and now…."

Her hands were shaking and she glanced down at them, blinking to clear her eyes.

"Oh, Jo," Jack said, empathy and sincere regret clear in his voice as he closed the distance between them, arms coming up as he continued, "I'm gonna hug you. Don't kill me."

"Not today," she agreed, allowing her boss, her friend to gather her against his chest. Jo pressed her face into the coarse material of his shirt, nearly identical to the one she wore (including the lingering smell of cordite and explosions), letting her tears soak into the fabric. He ran a hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture, the other stroking her head softly as he made some non-sensical, soothing sounds.

After several moments, she shifted slightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she asked, "You find anything different at your place?"

She felt his spine tense slightly, but his hands didn't falter. "Well, Tess there. More than half in the bag at 11am and a bit too quick to hand me a drink too, so that does not bode well. Zoe's still at Harvard though."

Huh. So Zane was still a residant in their jail and Tess was a bit of a lush. Lovely.

"I don't think I like this timeline very much," she muttered unhappily, unable to force herself to care about what the others may have found upon returning to their own homes.

"Me neither," he agreed. "Think Henry has a rewind button around his garage somewhere."

"I wish."

He fell quiet again before sighing, "We should probably check in on him, Allison and Fargo."

"Can we just hold off on that for a minute? I'm…" she said, knowing it was well past the point when she should have backed away from Carter, but, at the moment, the comfort of his embrace was just too damn tempting. Her own arms had wound around him and were gripping the back of his shirt. Fortunatly, he seemed not to be un-nerved, probably taking solace in the fact that she was someone truly familiar amongst a town of strange people wearing the faces of their friends and neighbors.

"Sure," he said and she felt his cheek rest against the crown of her head. "I think we might just be due a time out…hell, vacation. This kind of crazy deserves a paid vacation."

She actually couldn't agree more.

But for now, a few moments of solace in a friends arms would have to do.

Then they'd go try and fix this mess.

Same Shit, Different Day…Different World.


End file.
